


You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

by RedTeamShark



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Age Difference Between Adults, Carolina is an accidental cradle robber, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining, Not a Date, Pining, Totally A Date, foot in mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-09 10:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: “I’m twenty-seven,” Kimball says to fill the silence, and Carolina almost chokes on her drink.--Carolina never exactly intended to date someone twenty years her junior. Again.





	You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> An oldie but a goodie from Femslash February 2017.

It’s not a date, she tells herself again and again, sitting in the coffee shop and watching the windows with an intensity that implies she is, in fact, waiting for something much more serious than a…

It’s not a _date_ , Carolina forces her eyes away from the window, to the menu board. Coffee. Tea. MRE Cookies. Well, this is Chorus in the bare minimum of post-war. This is Harmonius piecing itself together from the brink of destruction. This is a chance for both of them to get out of the barracks, away from the military, and have some actual goddamn coffee that doesn’t taste like it was brewed with swamp water.

Well, in theory. In truth it’s a stuttered response to Kimball’s offhand comment about wanting coffee that actually tasted good. In truth it’s her fingers tapping against her wrist in time with her too-fast pulse because sure, it isn’t a date, but it isn’t a strategy meeting or a debrief or–

“Sorry I’m late.” Kimball slides into the chair across from her and Carolina gawps, fairly certain that her lower jaw is hanging somewhere down around her shins.

“You look _good_ ,” she manages, clearing her throat at the other woman’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, I’m not used to seeing you with clothes on–”

“Bow chika bow wow, right?”

The awkwardness breaks for both of them and they laugh, eyes meeting and sending them into further laughter. By the time Jensen comes by to take their drink orders both are under some semblance of control again, but it’s still a little rough around the edges. Fitting.

“Coffee,” Kimball requests, one hand tucking loose hair behind her ears.

“Tea for me. Green, please.”

There’s not much to talk about besides the military and they run out of conversation too fast, drinks barely sipped before they’re both struggling for something. Carolina doesn’t like the divulge, Kimball doesn’t have much to tell. This was a mistake and–

“I’m twenty-seven,” Kimball says to fill the silence, and Carolina almost chokes on her drink. She clears her throat and grabs a napkin while the woman across from her clarifies. “The other day, you said I was… One of the most experienced generals you’ve ever worked with, but… I can’t be. I’m only twenty-seven and I… didn’t exactly climb the chain of command in the normal way. Someone had to take up the leadership role and I stepped up. Had some pretty big shoes to fill… Still not sure I did a good enough job.”

“You did fine.” Twenty-seven. Kimball is literally young enough to be her kid and here they are having coffee together in an almost-not-platonic way. Maybe they count differently on Chorus? Maybe she’s not dating someone two decades younger than her again?

Not that she’s dating Kimball. Not yet. Not that she’s thinking about it almost nonstop. That’d be completely inappropriate when Kimball is so much younger than her and so much sweeter than she deserves.

“Carolina? Are you… okay?”

“You’re twenty-seven. I’m forty-six. That’s nineteen years.” Why is she pointing this out? She sounds like Caboose, jumping into random tangents that only barely make sense in her own head.

“Thanks for the math lesson. Is that… a problem?” Genuine concern in Kimball’s eyes. She is _ruining_ this. “You never really asked about my qualifications.”

“I just–” Control. Collect herself. _Come on, Carolina, you can do this!_ “I’m surprised. You seem much more experienced than someone your age would usually be.”

“War is a hell of a teacher.”

The silence isn’t as awkward this time, but there’s still weight to it. Carolina gives it another few seconds before she speaks up. “It is… Except it teaches you all the wrong lessons. Loss and pain and… and how to grow up before you should.”

Their drinks are empty, mismatched mugs turning between two sets of hands. Scarred, calloused, nails clipped military short. Neither of them seem to know where to go from there.

“Well,” Kimball finally breaks, pushing away from the table, “I should get back to the barracks. Troops aren’t gonna assign themselves and all.”

“Yeah… Yeah.” Carolina stands, her eyes meeting Kimball’s steadily. “You want to do this again sometime?”

“Without a doubt.”

It’s still not a date, but there’s a lingering feeling of _not yet_ that follows them out of the small coffee shop.


End file.
